Some people use words to directly "smash" each other to death

The pleasure of reading for book lovers is like "slightly drunk", which can be encountered and unattainable. You are also book gluttons, enjoy this table of words, have good taste, good mood and good appetite - similar hobbies, knowledge structures, are in a certain reading rhythm, and are open to writers you don't know. Good book friends, without a heart, can "harass" at any time, but also can squeeze each other, casually throw away only a few words, believe that the other party can have a sharp mind.

I conclude that Elder Wang liked Martin Amis and this memoir, The Experience. He was with Julian Barnes, a member of the New Bloomsbury Circle in the 1970s, and Borges's "fan"—all three of which were his "dishes." So, I kept "smashing" the paragraphs and ideas I saw at him, letting the text and screenshots whizz around.

Having a son who is a writer is more terrifying than having a father who is a writer.

His father was the one who wrote Lucky Jim and won the Booker Prize.

Courtesy of Visual China

The elder Amis became famous for writing, empathizing with a female writer. After his ex-wife divorced, he opened a "Lucky Jim" fried fish shop, and his wealth was rolling in; his second marriage became the professor's wife; his third marriage became a baroness...

Little Amis inherits his father's genes, all kinds of tosses... Because he liked Nabokov and became a literary "sworn enemy" with his father, he sent his novel to Lao Ai, who turned a few pages of "Money" and threw the book from the head of the house to that end...

Suspected of being slow to type, I simply copied the relevant content from another book ("In Someone Else's Sentence") and copied it directly: Hitchens wrote a book called "Cultural Amnesia", which depicts him and Brodsky jumping on a dining chair and smashing French-German poems with brodsky after drinking and eating... It was Bloomsbury in the '70s. This little gang was initiated by Amis... The word games they play are all learned.

Haha, they play word games, isn't it just "smashing" each other with words? This is a good play for intellectuals (literati inkers), and our literati elders will. Su Xiaomei "pushed out the window before the moon behind closed doors", forcing Qin Shaoyou to "throw stones to open the underwater sky"; Han Yu joked Bai Juyi: The qujiang river is full of flowers and thousands of trees, and it is not willing to come when there is a bottom? Old Bai hummed softly: The small garden has newly planted red cherry trees, and the bento swimming around the flowers and branches is idle.

In the history of literature, without these "mutual pity" games, how lonely should it be? In Martin Amis's memoirs, there is no shortage of "smashing" people — fathers, brothers, friends, peers, and of course readers.

In 2000, when "Experience" was published, Xiao Ai was 51 years old and middle-aged. In the previous four or five years, he had divorced and married, his daughter suddenly appeared out of wedlock, his cousin, who had been missing for almost 20 years, was identified as one of the victims of a series of homicides, major dental surgeries, right and wrong in the process of publishing a new book... And (most importantly), the death of the father.

Non-linear text flies everywhere, and you have to keep up with the trail of it splashing around. At first, I can't see sadness—letters from college, wearing the first half of my memoirs. Each letter is basically a report to the father and stepmother on the current situation, asking for money, with bills, and the rest of the narrative is full of ridicule of the writer's father, holding up a "dart" and throwing it provocatively at Lao Ai. Lao Ai explained to his son why he was divorced, and Xiao Ai popped up a "mocking body": "What I can remember is that he ridiculously mentioned the matter of Chinese tea - how Dad liked Chinese tea, and Mom never remembered buying some." And now, he was content to drink cup after cup of Earl's black tea..."

In the stream-of-consciousness memories of the past, the very beautiful ones are those "original notes", they are mean, interesting, rich, you can feel the "bullet screen" flying down like rain - they should be hidden behind the main text, but unexpectedly rushed to the front desk, from time to time to steal the limelight of the main text.

Martin stayed at the clinic and underwent painful dental surgery, writing this "note": When I was working on a dental mold at Mike's clinic, I had to sit quietly for a few minutes, with a layer of tasteless bubble gum in my mouth. Joyce and Nabokov, members of the Rotten Tooth Club, told me that they would have spent half an hour, their throats stuffed with scattered rotten eggs, writhing and vomiting. In dentistry of that era, the smell of rotten eggs was the preferred flavor of this type of material.

And after the death of his father, he lamented that "they are finally equal, equal before God and equal before death without God...", and at the same time "Note": ... Nabokov argues that the ultimate classification of human beings is somewhere in between: the good sleeper (he sees them as smug fools) and the great toss-and-turn insomniacs (like himself). Graham McClintock, a common character in Fall in Love with a Girl Like You (1960), argues that the human classification is somewhere between "attractive and unattractive." The unattractive Graham tells the charismatic Jenny Bonn, "You can't imagine the differences in our lives between people who look like you and those who look like me"...

Here, there are records of personal lives, literary insights, empirical talk, and evaluations of peers. Almost all English teachers have said that the best way to learn a word is to understand the meaning of a word from the English explanation. This is very much like reading "Experience", its notes continue to enrich the content of the original text, like a matryoshka doll, giving you layer after layer of surprises, making you laugh, frequently nodding, and can't help but annotate a few words; feeding you new "materials" to satisfy your gossip curiosity, and constantly enriching your knowledge; bringing you a certain emotion - happiness, disdain, sadness... You "peel the onion" in the overlap between them and the main text, carefully searching for the truth.

Unlike the sarcasm, which is brisk and sharp, where grief comes slowly and unexpectedly, the heavy dart of "death" suddenly hits you. "The father is dying, and his father has walked this way (and so has his father's father). The inevitable is coming, and your heart is ready to get up and meet it. 'The feeling of something about to happen when it's about to hang in the balance. ''Unresolved', that's right. 'Unresolved' is no less than the truth. ”

But that's not all. Around the time when his father fell ill and died, Amis ended his friendship with his old friend Barnes. Barnes' wife had been the publisher of amis's father and son, and when Ai's new book Intelligence was published, he changed agents, which annoyed Barnes, and he "smashed" a letter to the other party, "The last phrase in the letter is a well-known spoken word." That phrase consists of two words. Seven letters in total. Three of them are f. (I guess it's fuck off)

"I'll call you later — a long time later." —Little Ai wrote a reply to Barnes. How long is this long time? I wonder if, years from now, when Amis sees Barnes' words in mourning his dead wife, will they reconcile?

Some people use words to directly "smash" each other to death. The words and phrases that writers fly out are like "rain of arrows" shooting at each other; the reader is hit by the words in the book, and the "aftershock" of the drum is passed on to the next reader; in the interpretation of the same work by generation after generation, we see that culture will be passed on. Like the overthrow of dominoes, strange, vivid, elf-like words, in this way in the crackle of the photoelectric stone, the sound echoes.

Source: China Youth Daily client